Extra Of The Magus Academy

"N-no… no… need more… more…"

Arius wandered through the dimly lit corridors of the academy, his footsteps echoing against the cold stone walls. His head hung low, his whitish silver hair disheveled, his eyes sunken and hollow.

He muttered to himself, his lips twitching as incoherent whispers filled his mind, seeping into every corner of his consciousness like an insidious poison.

"Weak... pathetic... failure..."

The words twisted around his thoughts like a vice, squeezing tighter with every step he took.

"Dustan... you failed to kill him. How disgraceful."

Arius gritted his teeth, his hands trembling at his sides.

He could still remember the way Dustan had humiliated him—the way he had stood over him in victory, the smirk on his face.

The shame, the rage... it boiled inside him, festering like a wound that refused to heal.

"You need more power."

Yes. Power. That was the only way.

Dustan had bested him because he was weak.

And weaklings had no place in this academy, or in the academy he was going to.

They were discarded, cast aside like trash.

Just like his so-called friends—no, his former friends—who had abandoned him the moment he fell from grace, relegated to Beta Class like some common failure.

His breathing grew heavy, his heartbeat thudding in his ears like a war drum. The whispers in his head grew louder, urging him on, taunting him, demanding more.

"You know how to gain it, don't you? The Souls... take them. Consume them."

His fingers twitched involuntarily, his nails digging into his palm hard enough to draw blood.

"Yes... I do," Arius muttered under his breath, his voice trembling with equal parts fear and anticipation. "I do know how."

And then, fate delivered an opportunity.

As he walked past the entrance to the library, he heard laughter—familiar laughter. His blood ran cold, and his head snapped toward the source of the sound.

Two figures emerged from the building, their conversation lively and carefree. Arius's breath hitched when he recognized them instantly.

Cyril and Vance.

His former friends. The ones who had laughed at him behind his back, whispered rumors, and deserted him without a second thought when he was demoted. They had been his closest allies once, standing beside him when he was still at the top. But the moment he fell... they abandoned him like he was nothing.

His fingers twitched. His vision blurred. They deserved to pay.

"...I'm telling you, with the next Exchange coming up, we need to get stronger. The Nirvana Gate students aren't playing around. Thankfully, the Zephyr brothers are carrying us so hard right now." Cyril said, his voice confident. "Did you see what happened with Ashfelt? He completely surprised us and even defeated Leera."

Vance scoffed. "It's crazy, right? Hah! The final rounds are going to be so interesting."

Arius stepped into their path, his shadow stretching long under the moonlight.

"Evening, gentlemen," he rasped, his lips curling into something that barely resembled a smile.

Cyril and Vance froze, their conversation halting mid-sentence.

They squinted at him for a moment before realization dawned on their faces.

"Arius?" Cyril blinked, taking a hesitant step forward. "Is that you? You look... different."

Different. Yes. He was different.

He no longer wore his glasses, and his hair had now turned white—as if he was an old man.

Vance smirked, nudging Cyril. "Wow, Arius, I didn't think I'd see you around anymore. Beta Class must be... humbling, huh?"

Arius tilted his head, his fingers twitching.

"Humbled?" he whispered, the word rolling off his tongue like venom. "Yes... humbled."

Cyril shifted awkwardly. "Look, man, no hard feelings, right? We had to move on... you understand, don't you?"

Arius stared at him, his eyes dark and empty. "Understand... yes. I understand."

And then, before they could react, he moved.

Faster than either of them could track, his hand shot forward, grabbing Cyril by the throat. The taller boy's eyes widened in horror as Arius's grip tightened like a steel vice. Cyril gasped, clawing at his hand, but it was futile.

Vance took a step back, panic setting in. "Arius, what the hell are you doing—?!"

But Arius wasn't listening.

"Take it. Their Souls. Devour them."

A twisted grin spread across his face as he murmured something under his breath. A dark aura, sickly and pulsating, spread from his palm, sinking into Cyril's flesh.

A bloodcurdling scream tore from Cyril's throat as his body convulsed violently.

His eyes rolled back, his skin paling as his very essence—the core of his being—was ripped away. Arius's eyes glowed with an eerie light, his veins darkening with the stolen energy. The power flowed into him, filling every fiber of his being with an intoxicating rush.

Cyril's lifeless body crumpled to the ground like a broken doll.

Vance turned to run, sheer terror written all over his face.

"Not so fast." Arius's voice was a whisper, but it cut through the air like a blade.

In a blur, he closed the distance, his hand plunging into Vance's chest. The boy screamed, thrashing, but it was useless. Arius's grip tightened, and again, the black aura spread. Vance's screams were cut off with a sickening gurgle as his Soul was torn from him, feeding the ever-growing hunger inside Arius.

When it was over, Arius stood amidst the two lifeless bodies, their empty eyes staring at nothing. He breathed heavily, his body trembling from the overwhelming surge of power coursing through his veins.

Yes. This was it. This was the power he needed.

A dark laugh bubbled from his throat, low and ragged. He felt... alive. More alive than he had in months.

The whispers in his head were no longer just whispers—they were his guiding truth.

"More. You need more. Find them. Take them all."

Arius stared down at the bodies of his former friends, his lips curling into a sneer.

"Looks like I've finally surpassed you," he whispered.

Without another word, he stepped over their corpses and vanished into the shadows of the academy, a predator on the hunt.

*********

[Day 7 Of The Academy Exchange]

The grand arena of the Akashic Magus Academy buzzed with energy, packed to the brim with students, instructors, and esteemed guests from across the Empire. Banners of the four competing academies fluttered in the wind, each cheering section roaring with anticipation as the final day of the Exchange Tournament commenced.

Today, the champions of each stage—Apprentice, Intermediate, and Expert—would battle for glory, and tensions were at an all-time high. The air crackled with magic, and the pressure of hundreds of expectant eyes bore down on the competitors like a crushing weight.

And standing at the center of it all were Ashfelt Zephyr and Seth Zephyr, brothers by name but rivals by circumstance.

Ash stood tall, his wind-swept ashen white hair shimmering under the morning sun.

His crimson eyes were focused but carried a weight of unease deep within them. Facing him across the grand stage was Seth, his azure eyes gleaming with excitement, his presence exuding an undeniable confidence that made Ash's nerves tingle.

The two locked eyes, and for a brief moment, the noise of the crowd faded into silence.

"Finally," Seth said, cracking his knuckles. "I've been waiting for this, brother."

Ash sighed, rolling his shoulders to release the tension that had been building up for days. "Yeah, I know. I just hope you haven't been holding back too much in your previous matches."

"I haven't needed to go all out... yet. But you? You're different. You've improved, Ash. I can see it." Seth grinned, his stance casual yet brimming with raw power.

Ash smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I appreciate that, Seth. But let's not pretend we don't both know how this ends."

Seth chuckled, stepping closer. "You sound like you've already accepted defeat. Where's that confidence, brother?"

Ash met his gaze steadily. "I'm being realistic. You're... well, you're you." Stay connected through My Virtual Library Empire

Seth placed a hand on Ash's shoulder, his grip firm. "And you're you, brother. I want you to give me everything you've got. No tricks, no holding back. This is our moment. Let's make it count."

Ash hesitated before nodding, his hand tightening into a fist at his side.

He had come this far, fought tooth and nail through countless opponents, but the one standing before him now... this was the real test.

"Remember our agreement, Seth." Ash muttered under his breath. "Don't come crying to me when you lose."

Seth smirked. "That's the spirit. Now, let's put on a show they'll never forget."

Beatrice Lampshade's voice echoed throughout the arena, amplified by magic:

"FINAL MATCH OF THE APPRENTICE STAGE! ASHFELT ZEPHYR OF THE AKASHIC MAGUS ACADEMY VERSUS SETH ZEPHYR OF THE SAME ACADEMY! TWO BROTHERS. TWO TITANS. ONLY ONE WILL CLAIM VICTORY!"

The crowd erupted into cheers, a deafening wave of applause and shouting. The announcer continued, their voice filled with excitement.

"Let the FINAL MATCH... BEGIN!"

Ash and Seth stepped back simultaneously, falling into their respective stances.

Wind whipped around Ash in controlled currents, his Medium-Grade Wind Spirit swirling within his Soul. Seth, on the other hand, radiated raw, crackling energy, his presence alone making the ground tremble beneath his feet.

The tension between them was immense.

Ash exhaled slowly, his heart pounding.

'Here it goes… I can't afford to back out now!'